The Window HB Carlisle Contest Entry
by BamaBabe
Summary: She didn't know he watched her, too. AH/OOC
1. Chapter 1

**"That's Mister Hot Bitch to You, The Contest"**

**Title: The Window**

**Rating: M**

**Pairing: HB Carlisle and You**

**Vampire or Human: Human**

When she decided to lease the space from the architect who had renovated the buildings, she thought he was a little eccentric. Really, who puts a huge plate-glass window facing a dirty alleyway and another building - with a matching window? Now the huge windows were her favorite part. Of both buildings.

She checked the clock, again. Almost time. She logged off her computer, turned all the lights off and opened the curtains to the very large window in her apartment. She poured a glass of wine, eased in to her chair and waited for Carlisle to make his appearance. She knew a little about the man who lived across from her. She had seen his works displayed at a local gallery. In her opinion, his best work was in motion, not on canvas.

Ah... and there he is. In all his blond god-like glory; tall, beautiful in a completely rugged and masculine way. Lean enough to see his strong muscles alive under his skin. And she loved to think about those muscles. Imagining that he is strong enough to pick her up, to hold her while she wraps her legs around his waist, to press her between the wall and his body while thrusting inside her, bringing her to her climax and following with his. Strong enough to carry her to his bed afterward. Those were the thoughts running through her mind as she waited for this time every day; after work out and before the easel.

The routine was the same, remove clingy, sweat-soaked, t-shirt, stretch taught muscles - she especially loved when he stretched his back, glass of water, strip off baggy shorts revealing fantastic boxer-briefs below. Then, and this is the part she loved, watching him stalk the canvas. Even on the days he seemed less than inspired, he still approached his canvas the same way. She just knew that he must bring the same passion with him in everything he did.

He put the glass down on the counter and she leaned forward in her chair. Both of his hands were on the counter, head hanging down, lost in thought. Without moving his body, he slowly turned his head to face the canvas, eyes narrowing to a squint and closing again. She could see the rise and fall of breath moving his chest. He was getting close; the inspiration was coming differently tonight. His head snapped up, smile on his face as he strode with confidence to the canvas. Inspired. He started with pencil tonight, quickly roughing out the picture he would paint. Taking two steps back, tilting his head to the side, she could almost make out the furrow in his brow as he concentrated on transferring the image from his mind to the canvas. His hands were beautiful, swift and confident. Even if he seemed hesitant, his hands were steady and sure. After several minutes, he set the pencil down and stepped back again. As he moved to his paints, she watched his fingers trace the along the window. That small gesture caught her eye. It seemed out of place.

He went about the task of setting his palette and back to the canvas, his hands again deftly moving across the surface, colors coming together. She was never able to make out the details, but the movement of his body as he painted was mesmerizing. All too soon, he was moving the canvas to the side. Done already. She sighed and stood to move a little closer to the window, hoping to make the best time of her night last a little longer.

As she got closer, he turned to face her.

And smiled.

She froze. He can't see her. Can he? Surely not, his lights were on and hers were off. She was at the back of room, away from the window.

He moved closer to the window, palette still in hand, lifted is brush to the glass and started painting. She stood fascinated and terrified as she saw the image come to life on his window. Her loft, darkened, chair in the corner. His image differed slightly from the reality of her evening ritual. In his image, she was naked, legs parted, one over each arm of the chair. Breasts bare, hard nipples pointing up, head thrown back, lips parted fingers inside her glistening pussy.

Her breathing picked up as she watched him paint _her_. He knew. And he knew what she wanted, even if she had never admitted it or given into her desire as she watched him.

He stopped painting, moved to an unobstructed part of the window, with his hand on the window. He turned slightly to the side, making a show to look down, stroking his cloth-covered erection, turning, smiling and winking at her. Without her will, she had moved to her window, pressing her hands to the glass, smiled in return and nodded. _Yes, please. That is _exactly_ what I want._

He was suddenly gone. What the hell? If she hadn't been staring at the window painting, she might have convinced herself that it was a dream.

The knock on her door brought her out of her thoughts.

She looked through the peephole to see him, slightly flushed and smiling sheepishly. She opened the door and moved, offering him entrance to the room, her smile matching his.

He moved swiftly, carefully, letting her close the space between them. Because she was drawn to him in a way she could not control, she moved close, looking up into his topaz eyes, lost in the fantasy made real. He was here, in her apartment, now.

She stepped closer, reaching out to touch his still bare chest, only partially aware that he put on pants and shoes to come to her. His hand rested on hers as she touched his cheek, tracing down the line of his jaw, touching his full lips. He gently kissed her fingertips as they moved across his mouth, his other hand on her waist, pulling her body closer to his.

Her breath caught as she felt the heat of his body pressed against her, her eyes were lidded with lust but she forced them to stay open, not wanting to miss anything. He moved both hands to unfasten her shirt, sliding it slowly off her shoulders, kissing the skin laid bare as the shirt fell. He moved back to admire the beauty of the woman in front of him, ghosting his fingers over her skin, reveling in the silky feeling, moving his fingers slowly down inside the cup of her bra, feeling her nipples tighten further under his touch. Her moans were music to his ears and spurred him to move further. He removed the bra and slid his hand to the waist of her skirt, searching for the clasp. Unable to find it and feeling more and more urgent, he grasped the band in both hands, ripping the garment down the seam. She squealed, looking at him wide-eyed, heart slamming from being startled, and from sheer lust. He shrugged casually and dropped to his knees in front of her. He leaned in, brushing his nose against the front of the lace covering her very wet sex. He circled his arms around her waist, kissing her from hip to hip, moving lower as he went back and forth. As he moved his mouth to her core, he pulled her leg over his shoulder, pulled her panties to the side and slid his tongue into her. She gasped and moaned uncontrollably, wrapping her fingers into his hair, holding on for balance and sanity. Further encouraged by her moans, he sucked her clit into his mouth, nibbling gently at first and more firmly as he released it to slide his tongue deep inside her, reveling in her screams, sucking and licking, moaning as she pushed against him, begging for more. He slid his long fingers inside her, thrusting in time with the movement of her hips, moaning against her, bringing her to her climax, lapping up all the juices she released at his hand, and tongue. He eased her leg back down, making sure she was stable, leaning back to watch her while her breathing calmed and her eyes focused. Focused back on him, smiling at her. She smiled sweetly, shyly back.

He stood slowly, sliding his body against hers, pressing his erection against her as he pulled her close. He leaned down to kiss her. Without hesitation, she opened her mouth to him, sliding her tongue to meet his, stroking his tongue with hers, bringing a moan from him, unbidden. They needed air; he broke the kiss, making his way down her neck along her collarbone, to the valley between her breasts, moaning again at the silken feeling of her skin. He traced the circle of her nipple with his tongue, sucking it into his mouth, while pinching the other, pulling lightly. She moved her hands to his face, pulling him gently up to her mouth again.

It was her turn. She kissed slowly down his neck, tracing his collarbones with her tongue, pinching and sucking his nipples, reveling in the moans that elicited. She kissed down his chest, kissing and licking the lines of his abs, hip to hip, lower and lower until she was kneeling in front of him, close enough that her breasts brushed against his thighs. She looked up, making eye-contact and smiled sweetly, darting her tongue out to lick the tip of his cock, grinning when it jerked at her touch. She held his gaze and moved her hand to stroke his cock, sliding in into her mouth, slowly. His eyes were lidded with lust and he longed to lose himself in the feeling of her mouth on his cock, but he would not break her gaze. This was the most beautiful sight, this woman offering herself in such a vulnerable position for his pleasure. He took several deep breaths to prevent his release. She felt him wind his fingers into her hair, holding her without pushing her, letting her set the pace. That simple gesture made her want more; she hollowed her cheeks and slid more of him into her mouth, grazing her teeth along his shaft. His moans were becoming more uncontrolled, his hips moving with the rhythm her mouth set. She could feel him harden further as she slid her mouth more quickly along his length. She moved her arms around him, holding on to him as they moved together, fucking him with her mouth; fucking her mouth. She moaned as she slid him deeper, feeling the head of his cock pressing deep against the back of her throat. He could contain his release no longer, a moan ripping from his throat as he shot his seed into her hot, waiting mouth. She kept moving, feeling each pulse along her tongue as his cum jetted into her mouth. She helped hold him steady, and it was her turn to lean back, to watch as his breathing calmed and his eyes focused. Focused back on her, smiling at him.

He knelt down next to her, still recovering from her ministrations. He leaned his head against her shoulder, fingers tracing her arm. She moved to face him, wrapping her legs around his waist and he slid closer to her, arms enveloping each other. Slowly laying kisses on her neck, panting breaths ticking her sending a chill along her spine. He chuckled, and pulled her closer, rubbing his hands along her back, slowly down, cupping her ass in his hands and lifting her to straddle his lap. She felt his erection pressing against her stomach and moaned aloud. The ache she felt would be cured by one thing alone, and she was so happy he was ready. She moved her hands to his shoulders for leverage and moved her body over him; he grasped her hips, positioning his cock at her entrance. Moving together he thrust up as she slammed down onto him, both moaning at the feeling. He took a few calming breaths as she tightened around his length. He wanted this to last, to enjoy every sensation being inside her allowed. She ground against him, desperate for friction, needing him deeper inside her. His grip on her hips tightened as they found their rhythm, pushing against each other, kissing and touching every inch of skin within reach. Her head rolled back, leaving her neck exposed, her breasts thrust up to him. He leaned in to grasp a perfect nipple in his mouth, suckling urgently, drawing more moans, feeling her tighten around him more. Eager to feel her release, he let go of one hip, moving his thumb to rub her clit, making her hips buck wildly against him, moaning and whimpering as her pleasure soared. He could feel her getting wetter, tighter around him, her pace quickened, grinding into him, she screamed his name as she came and collapsed against his chest. She didn't see the large, smug smile on his face.

He moved her gently so he could pick up her limp, satisfied body and carry her to the bed. She gestured weakly toward her room, smiling and resting her head on his shoulder. She knew the night was young and appreciated the time to recuperate. He pulled the spread off the bed and laid her down, the cool sheet feeling wonderful against her flushed skin. He stood back, admiring the woman laid before him. She motioned for him to join her and after a lingering glance, he moved over her, gently spreading her legs with his knee. He moved slowly, teasing them both with the anticipation of what they each wanted. More.

He eased slowly inside her, relishing the feeling of her tight walls adjusting to accommodate him. Loving how wet she was, knowing he made her feel that way. When she couldn't take it anymore, she started wiggling, trying to move him deeper. _Not yet, beautiful._

He pressed his weight onto her, moving both of her hands over her head, holding them in place with one of his large hands. She whined at the loss of control, but quieted at the stern look on his face, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. His free hand roamed her body, cupped her ass as he ground his hips into hers, moving his cock slowly deeper and she resisted the urge to move into him. He quickened the pace slightly, watching her breasts move with each thrust. He felt her body tensing beneath him, struggling with the desire to give up even a slight amount of control, seeing that she enjoyed it. He teased her more, holding her still, firmly, while enjoying her body. He could feel his release coming. He wasn't ready to stop just yet.

She felt his grip loosen enough for her to free her hands and quickly drug her nails down his back, grasped his ass and pulled him in deeper. He hissed as she scraped his back, making him that much harder.

He moved to kneeling, moved her hips to his thighs and her knees to his shoulders and thrust deep inside her; she moaned uncontrollably, fisting the sheets, her head tossing back and forth as he thrust again and again. He slid two fingers inside her dripping pussy, getting them wet and moved to tease her puckered entrance, gauging her reaction. Her body relaxed slightly at his touch, and he slid a long, slick finger inside while plunging his cock deeper into her. She screamed out, grinding against him, her climax taking over. He thrust, again and again, sliding both slick fingers into her, driving her climax further. All control slipped, the feeling of her muscles quivering around him, massaging his length, around his fingers, sent him over the edge. He slammed his hips into hers, stilling, roaring as his climax erupted, shaking his entire body. When his trembling stilled, he rolled them to their sides, curling around her.

"I have wanted that for so long." She whispered.

"I know. I have, too."

"You ripped my skirt." She giggled.

"It was in the way." He growled.

"You are a hot bitch, aren't you?" she smiled.

"That's 'Mr. Hot Bitch' to you, thank you very much." They both laughed and rested, knowing the night was not over.


	2. Time to VOTE for your Favorite

VOTE – VOTE-VOTE!

KittenMischief's Hot Bitch Carlisle Contest

Lots of love to Fiberkitty and to Mischiefmaker for doing the contest and inspiring us to do our smutty best.

Thank you for taking time to read the story, and to add it to your alerts. Now it's time to cast your votes for two of the many stories in this competition. It's tough to narrow it down to two, but I have every faith that you can do it.


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